Pieta

Tell me how much you loved your firstborn,

about how you could have kissed every inch

of his tender skin. I know, as you told me,

you only allowed him to eat blended veggies

that you carefully prepared. Are you sure

he did not sleep unless you run while cradling him?

That was funny! I could not imagine how you delighted

when he learned to close-open his hands while

you sang him that simple rhyme.

I am interested on what you shared about how fast

he learned to talk, how fast he learned to walk.

Was he really just seven months old then?

Ahh, so he is nineteen now.

Why do you worry when he leaves? It was you

who taught him how to walk. No, please,

please don’t cry when he talks. He is just

thanking you because he now learns not to

unclench his fist. No more close-open rhymes.

He has to be steadfast because many

do not eat even blended veggies.

And he told me, when he does not come back

and when you hear of him no more, follow his trail.

Pick him, bone after bone and kiss him.

He will not sleep unless you run while cradling him.

I know you will. You told me you love your firstborn.

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One Response to Pieta

  1. such tenderness of words. i love this.

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